Shades of Orre
by Paragon Heart
Summary: Several decades after the second fall of Cipher, the Orre Region has flourished. A new government has been established, wild Pokemon are becoming more common, and things in general are looking up. Perfect time for something horrible to happen, no?
1. Prologue

Prologue

In this world, there are many types of people. There are people who love to be admired, seeking out the spot light in any way they can, be it making loud and rude jokes in public or simply flaunting any minor talent they have. Some wish to simply be left alone, avoiding others as much as they can without drawing attention to themselves. Others are easily motivated and work hard until they have reached their goals. Many wish that they didn't have to work so hard, and so strive to be as efficient as possible so that they obtain the maximum amount of leisure time possible. Some don't care at all and never get anything done, simply passing through the day in a lazy stupor. One person may enjoy watching or playing sports. Another enjoys listening to music.

People do not leave this world the same being that entered. When we are born, we have no experience, no ideas, no knowledge to speak of. These things come naturally, and they shape us as human beings. Our tastes, our interests, our opinions, our aesthetics, our ways of thinking, these are all affected by our interactions and experiences with others. One must never underestimate the influence they can exhibit on another. A simple act of kindness can give a person a new reason to continue when they would have otherwise given up, while even the most minor act of cruelty may be just enough to push them over the edge into a place from which they will likely not return unscathed.

In this world, there are as many types of people as there are people. No two are quite exactly alike. No matter how numerous the similarities, there will always be differences, be they easily observable from the outside, such as hair color or build, or hidden deep in the person's mind, close to the very core of their being. One great beauty of the human mind, however, is the ability to ignore these differences and accept one-another, despite the great contrasts that may exist between them.

The sheer vastness of the diversity of Human natures makes it not surprising at all that some will be… less than pleasant. There are of course people with negative aspects mixed into their personalities. In fact, a large portion of the small amount of common-ground shared by all Humans is the presence of negativity. This negativity, this "darkness," will come in all magnitudes, as with the positive components of a person's nature, but is absolutely constant. Both the negatives and the positives are present in everyone, and thus all Humans are capable of both "good" and "evil."

The concepts of "good" and "evil" are very non-substantial. These qualities are completely situational, and are never black and white, as some believe. To many, the act of taking another Human's life is the supreme form of evil. But what if that person wishes to leave this world? What if that person's death can lead to the survival of thousands of others? What if that person is, themselves, "evil?" What if that person is about to commit an act unspeakable "evil," such as killing many others? Does the taking of life remain evil at that point, or does it become "justice," or even "kindness?" Do you become a hero or a monster? Does killing a tyrant or a murderer make you the savior of a people, or simply make you the same? This is ultimately decided by the society that one lives in, and the current idea of "justice."

The Orre region. Far to the north and west of the Johto and Kanto regions, this country is dominated by a massive desert. To the northern edge looms the vastness of Mount Battle, one of the most intimidating challenges available to the world of competitive Pokemon Training. From the center sprouts the Realgam Tower, an architectural wonder and home to several other challenges for Trainers, such as Battle Sims and Bingo. In the ocean to the south lies the dark and formidable Citidark Isle, once home to arguably the most dangerous criminal syndicate the world has seen. To top it all off, to the north-east of Citidark, along the coast, stands the Orre Colosseum, the birthplace of the single most elite competition in the world outside of the Battle Frontier. Needless to say, when surrounded by so many incredible landmarks, the trainers of the Orre Region are almost all intensely strong.

The Orre Region's system of government is incredibly weak. This is partly due to many of the citizens being unfortunately thuggish and unruly in nature, but mostly due to the actions of the criminal group known as Cipher. The initial rising of Cipher was a very dramatic endeavor. Before they made their real push for power, they were almost completely unknown, but succeeded in taking over two entire cities and constructing the Realgam Tower. If it hadn't been for the actions of a young man named Wes, they would have completely taken over the entire region without any trouble at all. Before Wes shut them down, however, they had already managed to severely cripple the government. Then, five years later, just as the country was recovering, Cipher rose again, completely destroying the already diminished semblance of authority the nation held over the people. Cipher was thwarted again, however, by another young man named Michael. The result was an entire country full of highly skilled trainers with muddied concepts of right and wrong, with no way of getting them under control. The people of Orre are by no means unintelligent, however, and realized very quickly that they needed some form of organization.

Many liked the idea of simply getting rid of the original system of organization entirely, so the country was broken up into several independent cities and their surrounding regions. Due to its elegance and location, the Realgam Tower was designated as a neutral, independent area of recreation, socialization, and trade, where people from the other sections could mingle anytime they wanted. That way the sections could remain separate, but still had a way of connecting with each-other. Under this system, after smoothing out a few kinks, the region flourished, soon becoming even more successful than the original country.

All good things end, however. After a long, peaceful, happy, successful era of prosperity, a wicked breeze has begun to rouse old evils...


	2. The Outsider

A man sat at a desk, looking blankly at some numbers flashing on the screen in front of him, deep in thought. Even a passing glance could tell you that he was ancient. His hair was a pristine white, his face lined with age. A closer observation could tell you, however, that while he was indeed old, he was by no means decrepit. His eyes were bright and alive, what few movements he made were smooth and precise. He was trim, fit, and very healthy. Neither was he unhappy or unloved. The walls of his good-sized office were nearly covered in pictures of close friends, family, business partners, awards, even some fan-mail. A large filing cabinet next to him was full of mail from the myriad Trainers that he'd helped take that first step by giving them their very first Pokemon, letting him know how they were doing, where they were, telling him about the newest member of their party, asking him if there was any new blood in the field that they should look out for, etc. Most notably was a pair of open envelopes sitting on his desk, just next to a photo of two people, one in a red cap, the other with very spiky brown hair.

The man had received the first letter several months before, and hadn't thought anything of it. It really wasn't uncommon for people to write to him, saying that they thought that their child might be special. He had written back, as he normally would, asking how special, and in what way, their child was. After not hearing from the parents for several weeks, he assumed that they had forgotten and simply ignored it. That is, until that morning, when he went to get the mail and was greeted by a pair of very impressive-looking Pokemon waiting by his mailbox. One of the Pokemon, a very sleek, obviously very powerful, blue and white dragon-like creature, was holding a letter. After having delivered the letter, the two Pokemon immediately flew off, leaving the man slightly surprised and extremely confused. Inside the envelope was a small note simply stating that he should look through the enclosed photographs and, if he decided that the child was worth his attention, send a reply the next morning.

In his experience, the man had seen countless things. Amazing things. Things that defied the laws of physics. What he saw in the photographs was not new, but he had definitely never seen the phenomenon at the magnitude displayed. What he saw was a bird's-eye-view of a small child surrounded by a massive throng of Pokemon. Easily several hundred of them, of all sizes and species. Some were cowering in fear. Some had their heads bowed in respect, even reverence. While others, mostly the ones closest to the infant, were losing themselves in excitement and joy. What he saw, captured in the stillness of the photographs, were the first steps and recognition of a Legend. This child was destined for greatness, and if he wasn't at the level of Pokemon Master by the age of fifteen, the man would be very disappointed. The child might even be close to that already, seeing as both Latios and Latias had been reduced to mere letter-carriers.

The man had finished his reply letter several hours before, and now he found himself racked by alternating waves of worry and anticipation. The child would have to be raised very carefully. If proper morals weren't instilled in him, the potential for him doing something horrible when he matured was staggering. Either way, Samuel Oak may just get the privilege of kicking off the Training career of one last Master, one who had the potential to completely eclipse all who came before.

He began looking through his mail from trainers systematically; going all the way back to the first letter he had kept from a Trainer. The paper was old, yellowed and curling from the sheer weight of the years it had spent tucked away in the back of the cabinet. Various thoughts about mortality and the fragility of human life chased each-other about in his mind, but he did nothing to clear them. He had lived a long and successful life, and he was still in great health, even retaining much of the strength and vitality he had had so many years before when he had been a trainer. He had no regrets, and would welcome the darkness without protest when it arrived, if not for some time yet. All the same, he decided, this would be his last act as a Pokemon Professor.

As it would be his final action as a Professor before he retired, Oak decided to change things up a little bit. In the Kanto Region, for as long as he could remember, the Starter Pokemon had been Bulbasaur, Charmander, and Squirtle. There had been a few exceptions, one boy had been given a Pikachu after Oak had run out of other Pokemon one year, he had once given a family friend an Eevee, etc. This would be slightly more drastic.

For what he had in mind, Oak needed to make a few calls. The Pokemon he had chosen were all quite rare, even in their native regions. He knew he would never be able to find any of them, in any reasonable amount of time, here in Kanto. He had said in the letter that he was quite definitely interested in the child, and would be honored to introduce him to his first Pokemon. He would, however, require anywhere from four to six weeks to locate and assemble the three he had in mind. That meant that he had up to six weeks to obtain one each of three extremely rare species. It was doable, but it would be close.

The first two of the three would be relatively simple, seeing as he knew a number of very dependable Trainers who specialized in their breeding and development. After about a week, he finally managed to get a hold of both of the Trainers he had in mind and explain the situation to them. They both agreed to send him any promising specimens they might come across, though it would take a week or two to get them from the Sinnoh and Hoenn regions to Kanto. It was the third option he'd prepared for the child that would be difficult. The species was extraordinarily rare, even in comparison to the other two, and those that were around were very reclusive and excelled in deception. Oak had been a Professor for a rather long time, however, and had developed a titanic network of connections through other professors, travelers, Trainers, etc. Using this, it took him all of the first three weeks after sending his reply to find a Trainer he deemed trustworthy enough to find, capture, and deliver a healthy candidate.

The day after the three Pokemon arrived at his lab, the Professor sent another letter to the family notifying them that he would be coming by sometime in the next week, if there were no complications. There were none.

Three days later, the fifteenth of June, year 2032, around noon, Professor Samuel Oak made his way to a small home in the outskirts of Pewter City. He knocked on the door and was greeted by a small boy, probably around four years old.

"Well, hello there little one. Are your parents home at the moment?" Oak asked. The child hadn't said a word yet, but he could tell that he was the one from the pictures. Oak was renowned for being an excellent judge of not only potential, but of over-all character, and he definitely liked the child.

To Oak's great surprise, instead of speaking in human words, the child gave a very clear and confident woof. Any less-experienced person encountering the child would have been greatly confused. Just about anyone who has any experience with Pokemon at all can identify them by their shape and coloring, but very few recognize Pokemon by their calls. Even the Professor, filled with ninety long years of living side-by-side with Pokemon, wasn't completely confident in his ability to identify a Pokemon by its voice alone. He believed, however, that the child had emitted a Growlithe cry.

Almost immediately there was an answering woof from the back of the house. A reprimand of sorts, based on the child's reaction. He kind of winced, and then said, in rather garbled English, "Uh, yes tey awe. Tey'we in teh wiving woom."

"Ah! You've arrived! Wonderful! We've been looking forward to this, haven't we, Puce? Would you like anything to drink? I understand it can be quite a journey, coming all the way from Pallet. I hope you didn't have too much trouble finding the place?" A man had emerged from a doorway a short length down the hall. The man wasn't particularly large, but by no means was he small. In both height and build, the man was exceptionally medium. He had bright, jovial eyes and his voice was deep and rich.

"Oh, no, I'm quite fine thank you. I may be old, but I've still got some energy in me. The boy's name is Puce, then, hmm? That's an… interesting title," Oak said, slightly concerned. Yes, naming children with exceptional potential by certain colors was a fairly common practice, but he'd never come across anyone who had decided puce would fit.

"Well, it's not what he'll be called forever. Our plan is just to call him that until he's about nine or ten, then let him pick his own name. We couldn't really think of anything." The speaker this time was a rather small, mousey woman. She was definitely less socially adept than her husband, but still pleasant company. If nothing else, "Puce" had good parents.

"Mmm… I see. Well, on with business." Oak turned to the child. "Tell me child, what are Pokemon to you?"

Puce began to think very deeply, and then began to get frustrated. Finally, he emitted a long, strange sound. Oak had heard a great many things. Beautiful things. Inspiring things. Oak could think of a number of things that sounded vaguely similar to it, but nothing quite matched it. What it sounded like to him was an incredibly complex, but very clean, mesh of the cries from dozens of different Pokemon. The result was a melody so saturated with feelings that Oak very nearly collapsed. The sound was sweet, but haunting. The tone was euphoric, happy, but spoke of incredible sadness and despair. It vaguely reminded him of the sound made by the Azure Flute a friend had sent him so long ago, but it was much more beautiful, and much more soulful. Far more complex. The feelings portrayed by the outburst went very deep. Deeper than any single Human word could do justice. Oak understood why the child had been frustrated.

Oak was speechless for a moment. "I-I think I'll go for a glass of water now, thank you," he stammered.

Puce looked slightly embarrassed. "Sowwy. I don't wike egwish. It's missing wuds, and deh Pokemon aw mowe fun to talk to dan peopwe." This didn't surprise Oak very much. With the kind of bond with Pokemon that Oak was beginning to recognize in Puce, it was pretty normal for children to vastly prefer Pokemon to other Humans.

While Oak caught his breath, he decided to ask Puce one last question.

"So, Puce. Do you have any friends? Anyone you might play with occasionally?" Oak was fairly certain what the child's response would be, but it didn't hurt to make sure.

"Not weawwy. I went to a coupwe daycawes faw away, but none of the odew kids wooked fwendwy." This was what the Professor had expected. The child wasn't finished, however.

"Dey'we was one dough. He was… diffewent. He was weawy smawt, and he wiked Pokemon awmost as much as I do. His name was Turin. He nick-named me 'Razanur.' He said it meant 'traveler'." The words "Razanur" and "traveler" were said very clearly, without any fumbles or stutters. They struck a chord in Oak. This other child sounded interesting as well… Turin. He'd have to remember that.

"Alright, I think that's enough stalling. Shall we move outside? It's a beautiful day, and this is a momentous occasion!" Oak had finished his drink and was feeling anxious about getting on with business. Sometimes he could tell just by looking at a child what Pokemon they would choose, but that was mostly with the usual three starters and normal trainers. Seeing as neither was applicable in this case, Oak was very curious to see how it would play-out.

After bringing out some chairs and a table, the parents sat down as they waited for Oak to bring out the Starters he had prepared. Oak took a deep breath, and then laid out the three Pokeballs and opened all three with an almost theatrical flourish.

From the first came a small, angular, metallic creature with a single violet eye that travelled from one side of the clearing to the other. It had no arms or legs, but from its back-end sprouted three claws that sort of undulated rhythmically. After hovering for a moment, the creature set itself down, gripping the ground with its claws. "First, we have Beldum. It may not appear to be much at the moment, and it grows rather slowly. Once you get it going, though, it will be a force to be reckoned with. Definitely worth the effort," Oak said.

From the second capsule sprang an even smaller creature, also blue. This one was covered in a soft, fine fur. It had long, floppy, black ears that hung down well past its chin. Its eyes were surrounded by black mask-like markings and were very bright. Its cute appearance bellied its power, however. Its movements were graceful and precise, and it was very fast. Almost immediately after being released, the small mammal began trying to coax the Beldum into a game of tag that was almost pitifully one-sided. It settled down when Oak began to speak, however. "Second, we have Riolu. This one can be a bit tricky to raise, as it won't evolve simply through experience. It must be treated with love, and the bond between it and its trainer must be extraordinarily strong. It grows fairly fast, and will gain a number of incredible abilities once it matures, some of which it will likely be able to teach to you as well once it gets them truly mastered."

The third capsule opened in a cloud of smoke. After a few moments, the cloud dissipated to reveal… nothing. A moment later, a very fluffy, black, fox-like creature appeared directly in front of Puce, slightly startling the boy. It wore an exquisitely mischievous grin, and its eyes blazed with cunning. It let out a playful growl, and then picked up the game of tag that Riolu had abandoned. It would periodically disappear, then reappear somewhere else. "Last, but by no means least, we have Zorua. This little bundle of fun is fast, furry, brilliant, and deceitful to an extreme. As you may have noticed, they can change their shape at will, turning them into whatever they like, be it a blade of grass or a person. They don't actually change, though. It's actually an advanced illusion, but it's still enough for them to pull one over on the opposition. This one's especially smart. You'd do well to keep a very close eye on him if you choose him." Oak said this a little wearily. The little bugger had been a bit of a headache on the way.

Puce looked the three over for a moment. Oak had always loved this moment, just before the child chose their first Pokemon, a partner that would likely be with them for the rest of their lives. The anticipation in the Pokemons' eyes, the parents standing nearby. Most children were significantly older than Puce when they chose their Starter, but he was special. Just as Puce was about to say something, however, a violent rustling in the foliage distracted the group.

From the shrubbery emerged four intimidating, and not particularly happy, insect-like Pokemon. Their shapes were vaguely reminiscent of a praying mantis, and looked almost as if they had been designed specifically to cause pain. They walked on their hind-legs, and their forelegs didn't look particularly useful for anything other than dismembering an opponent, being nothing more than a pair of wickedly sharp blades. The largest was a little over five feet tall, and was covered in battle-scars. It didn't seem to be the leader, however. Just to its left, a slightly smaller creature stood, hostile but not angry. This one was a slightly darker shade of green than the others, and was very calm. With a quiet hiss from the leader, the four sprang into action. One, the largest, launched itself towards where the Zorua and Riolu were playing while the others went for the Beldum and Oak.

A great change came over Puce. A sharp glint entered the child's eye, and a growl rose in his throat. All three, Beldum, Riolu, and Zorua, snapped to attention and managed to avoid their assaulters, who hesitated in surprise. The leader recovered first and changed his target to the child. It was intercepted by the Beldum, who had launched itself at the most dangerous-looking opponent. They collided with a crunch and Beldum's momentum carried them to the other side of the clearing. Meanwhile, Riolu and Zorua had already incapacitated their attacker and moved on to their own individual targets. Riolu's target still hadn't quite recovered from the influence of Puce's cry, and was unprepared for the foot that came down on its head with just enough force to knock it unconscious without doing any real damage.

Zorua wasn't quite so efficient. Its target had already recovered, and was able to prepare itself for an attack from the little ball of fluff hurtling at it. It didn't prepare itself for the large black snake that quickly replaced it, however. Or the immense red dragon that replaced that. Zorua had seen a number of different species on the way from Unova, and had decided to try a couple guises. Completely confused by the rapid series of transformations, the mantis dropped its guard just long enough for Zorua to send a wave of deep black energy straight at its head. After toying with the creature for a little while, Zorua released a few more waves to bring the creature down.

This all happened in just a few moments, and was over just as quickly as it began. Puce's parents hadn't even had time to register that there was a problem, and Oak had barely gotten his hand to his belt for the Pokemon he'd borrowed by the time the first three went down. Oak watched, slightly shocked, but not particularly surprised, as Zorua danced, whirling through a hundred different shapes as the mantis tried to keep up.

As he relaxed, Puce went over to the lead insect and placed a hand on its forehead. A few seconds later the creature got up, almost completely rejuvenated. This was something that Oak had definitely seen before, always accompanied by an exceptional strong bond with Pokemon. Most who had the ability originated from the area within and around the Viridian Forest, but Oak was willing to accept just about anything at that point. The child's list of amazing qualities was getting longer by the second, and insane luck had just been added. Scyther were rare enough, even in the areas where they roamed naturally. Here were not one, not two, but four of them, three of them knocked flat in seconds, the fourth being Shiny, and not one of them actually injured beyond being knocked-out.

The group may not have been particularly happy with them when they arrived, but the Alpha certainly seemed to have changed its mind after hearing the child's cry and being healed. It was still calm, but it was significantly less angry now. Oak took this opportunity to observe it more closely. The Scyther's shell was remarkably clean. There were almost no scratches or filth on any part of the creature, and its shell shone with a metallic gleam. This was strange, considering the rather violent nature of Scyther as a species. All three of the others were covered in scrapes and dust, and none had anywhere near the almost regal air that the Alpha held. And here, this noble Pokemon was kneeling, as much as an insect with a pair of scythes for arms could, to Puce. Oak could tell that a Pokeball wouldn't be necessary beyond formality in this situation.

The Scyther dismissed its companions and took a seat next to Puce. After seeing all three in action, his decision was easy. "Riolu," he said quietly, then followed it with a slight purr. The Riolu got up confidently, as if it had known all along that it would be chosen, but its eyes betrayed its excitement. About half-way to Puce, its composure broke and it leapt to his side.

"Alright, that was slightly more eventful than most Starter selections, but no harm done. There is one last thing I'd like to discuss with the parents, if you don't mind." Oak turned to Puce's mother and father. What he was about to say was a bit big, but he was getting rather tired from all the excitement. He hadn't been mentally prepared for all of this, and was beginning to look forward to getting home and to bed.

"I think you should consider moving to the Orre Region. There are a number of excellent schools there, and one in particular I think would suit Puce here very well. And, frankly, almost all of them are much nicer than just about any school you'll find here in Kanto. It would be a bit of a waste of potential for Puce to not get any sort of education. Not that it would be absolutely mandatory, many of the greatest trainers of all time went their entire lives without spending more than ten minutes in a classroom, but it certainly wouldn't hurt. I do realize this is rather sudden, but from what I've seen, this child deserves formal tutoring. This particular school that I have in mind is significantly better than any school that you'll find anywhere in Kanto, Johto, or even Hoenn, and it will give Puce a chance to meet other children who share his love of Pokemon. It's a bit early now, you'd probably want to wait until he was at least seven, but I think I could probably get him into any school that he'd like." Oak stole a glance at his watch, and jumped. "Oh my, is it really that late? It really doesn't feel like it's been that long… Hm. Oh well, I think we have just enough time for me to run through how to capture a Pokemon with Puce before I go."

After a quick lesson on Pokemon capture, Oak got ready to leave. Just as he was setting off, he saw a twinkle on the horizon. He looked up just as a shooting star streaked its way across the early-evening sky.

On the way home, he stopped by a Pokemon Center to check on a couple things. His career as a Pokemon Professor may have been over, but Oak wasn't quite ready to completely retire just yet.


	3. The Experiment

Snow and ice howled around a lone figure, trudging across the frigid landscape. The being appeared mostly humanoid, apart from a couple slight imperfections. Its fingers were slightly too long, and its lips didn't quite meet, showing teeth that were just barely too sharp and gums that were tinged ever so slightly green. Most noticeable, and disturbing, were its eyes, which were black as night and void of emotion. The creature stank of death and decay, and for those that could see it, its aura was an oozing mess of blind hatred and ravenous hunger.

In the distance loomed an immense building, a research facility of some sort. Suddenly, the figure stopped. It sniffed, then looked around for a minute, searching for any form of life at all. Finding none, its form began to waver and morph. The gruesome beast was replaced by a young man, nineteen years old at the very most.

His face was well-shaped, even handsome. His eyes were a brilliant golden-brown, but his gaze was unusually hard for his age. His hair was pale blond and reached about half-way down his neck. He was dressed lightly, wearing only a flimsy black jacket over an almost papery t-shirt and a pair of pants that flapped and rustled loudly in the wind. At his hip hung an empty scabbard, as black and cold as the eyes of the creature that the man had replaced. After blinking a bit of snow out of his eyes, he turned his attention to the building.

The facility wasn't particularly old, probably somewhere between forty and fifty years old by the style, but the harsh climate of the mountain peak, as well as what appeared to have been a rather severe fire, had taken their toll. Large portions of the ceiling had caved in, the door barely clung to its hinges, and several sections of the walls had been burnt black and begun to flake. Apart from the damage, however, the contents of the building were quite interesting.

Certain things didn't surprise the man, it being a research facility. Things such as the room filled with row after row of test-tubes. At the very end of the room, however, something caught his eye. A single tube hung upon a plaque on the wall. The inscription simply read, "#673."

A few doors down from the lab, the man found something even more morbidly interesting. It appeared to be a bedroom of sorts. Likely for a fairly young girl, by the assorted paraphernalia strewn about the room. Or at least, what was left of it. The fire damage in this room was particularly bad. Perhaps it had started in this room? As the man considered this, he noticed that, huddled underneath the scorched ruin of the girl's desk, were the charred and broken remains of what appeared to be two Eevee. The building hadn't been empty when it burned.

After searching for a little longer, the man found two more sets of remains, these ones human, as well as a strangely intact, and very thick, journal. The man picked up the journal and began flipping through it. It appeared to be a Professor's log of sorts. The more he read, the less amiable his mood grew.

Fri- 09-27- 1996

I've just received word from our Kanto branch that their little… "project" was a success. Those poor fools. By now there won't be a single one left alive. Trying to recreate such a ridiculously powerful Pokemon from such a small sample alone would be dangerous, but making it even more powerful and hardwiring it to fight? That's just begging for a brutally swift death, if they were lucky. It wouldn't be surprising at all if it turned out to be a sadistic monstrosity. This does give us the opportunity my partner and I have been waiting for, though. Giovanni will have no choice but to give us the funding we need now. After all, what is a super-Pokemon without a super-trainer to control it?

Fri-10-25-1996

Good lord, communicating with Kanto from the Orre region takes a long time. It's been nearly a month and we've only just gotten a reply from Rocket HQ. Can't complain too much, though, we did get our funding. Quite a bit of it, actually. This'll do nicely. We've already collected a number of DNA samples, and we've received a few more along with a bit of starter cash, so I'm not worried about that. It's weird, though. They don't have names on them, they're just labeled Red, Blue, and Green. Unless those are their names? Who knows what kind of weird traditions they might have in Kanto.

Mon-11-4-1996

All of the math is finally done. Now we're ready to start the actual work. Splicing so many different genetic codes won't be easy, but that's to be expected. After-all, we're trying to genetically engineer a human-being here, not rats or fruit-flies. It'll be tough, but the rewards will be immense.

The man very nearly stopped reading right there, already sickened by what he'd read. Giovanni was a name that any fool knew, especially in this context. Such a kingpin of greed and cruelty was the embodiment of the man's purpose, however, and to know the enemy's plans, no matter how out-dated, would be invaluable. He flipped deeper into the book.

Thur-15-6-2016

It is official. I have lost faith in this operation. It has been twenty years, and we still haven't gotten a single specimen to survive for more than six weeks. We have lost the majority of our funding, three-quarters of the staff has quit, the DNA samples are running out, and we haven't had any good news for over a month. Our resolve has been shaken, and I don't think we'll be able to recover. This is my last journal as Head of Team Rocket R&D Orre branch.

- Professor G. R. Elwood

This surprised the man. The name Elwood sounded infuriatingly familiar.

17-8-2018

My father was a fool and a coward. What is twenty years in the search for knowledge? I found this journal recently, and after reading its contents, I've decided to pick up where he left off, with several major differences: One, I'm not going to depend on some half-baked criminal organization for funding. I mean really, getting completely destroyed by a child? Team Rocket was a failure of ridiculous proportions. I've already submitted a request for government funding, and they have no reason to say no. Two, I've actually got a plan for the child after we succeed. That idiot father of mine hadn't even put aside any of the budget for diapers. With this sort of engineering, the specimen isn't going to just get up and start training Pokemon, fully clothed and self-sufficient. Good lord man, foresight. And three, I will succeed.

-Professor G. R. Elwood II

23-11-2018

There are a few things I should give my old man credit for. He was a wizard with numbers, and his notes are impeccable. Had anyone else been the head of this project, my job now would be infinitely more difficult. As it is, I've already caught up to where his team was at the end of twenty years of work in just a few months. Granted, much of those twenty years was a massive period of stagnation ending with the collapse of the project, but still. Those are some ugly numbers that I would _not_ have wanted to deal with.

16-4-2019

When I started this project last year, I was completely ready to do it all myself. Before now, not once did the thought of an assistant or partner even cross my mind. As it stands, however, I've decided that it would be extremely helpful. I've narrowed it down to three candidates, all incredibly brilliant, with varying degrees of experience and naiveté. I think I might take the one with the least experience, actually. She seems least likely to steal my work, and she's just as capable as either of the other two. Alice Wey, I think you might enjoy the letter you'll be getting in a few days.

17-8-2023

The five year anniversary of the revival of my father's work. We've made immense progress from where he left off, and we haven't slowed at all. Hiring Alice was probably the best decision I've ever made, apart from bringing this project back. She's even more brilliant than her resume gave her credit, not to mention she's just a pleasure to work with. If I hadn't decided to bring her on-board a few years back, I highly doubt my sanity would still be intact. We're so close, we're getting specimens to survive for months at a time now. Before long we'll be having ones survive for a year or more, and not long after that we'll have our triumph. A fully "functional," genetically engineered, human being. One who is likely to be among the greatest Pokemon Trainers to have ever lived. While working on this, I've come to understand my father a little better, I think. If nothing else, I thank him for leaving me this project.

3-6-2028

Nearly ten years. Twenty more years before that. This project consumed what little time my father had left and much of mine as well. As I mentioned when I first re-opened this journal, there have been differences between the project that my father started and this endeavor of mine, however. We didn't rely on a criminal organization for funding. The child will be cared for, as any child deserves. We have succeeded. At 4:43 AM, on the third of September, year Two Thousand Twenty-Eight, specimen #673 became a fully-fledged Human infant. Welcome to the world, Ayla Elwood. I've written our sponsor, and let them know that I'd like to let her get a bit older before I fully publish my work. They were quite understanding, and agreed that it would be best to see how she interacts with Pokemon before releasing it in its entirety. This is still a monumental event, though. The first successful creation of a Human from bits and pieces of DNA. I'm actually a little surprised that we haven't received more resistance on the ethical level. Maybe our little project actually managed to stay completely top-secret. Either way, tonight is a night for celebration!

The rest of the book was either a mess of absurdly advanced math and notes or completely illegible, apart from two other entries at the very back of the journal. They read:

3-6-2038

Dear Ayla,

Today is your tenth birthday, and you've already far surpassed any expectations anyone could have ever had for you. You are brilliant in every sense of the word, and we think you deserve a fitting birthday present. The journal you hold in your hands contains the records of the life's work of your grandfather, whom you never got the privilege to meet, your father, and your mother. Ayla, you are our pride and joy, and we think you are mature enough to know some of the history behind this old building we live in. As you are reading this, remember that you are, and always will be, our daughter, and we love you. Happy birthday.

The last entry was only barely legible, smudged and stained with what could only have been tears and soot.

Mother, Father, thank you for everything. I'm aware that you're not actually my parents, but I don't care. You raised me, you loved me, and I loved you, and now you're gone. I can't stay here, but I'll live on. May you rest in peace, and I'm sorry. So sorry…

-Ayla Amaranth

As the man finished reading the last entry, he froze. His gaze locked on the name at the bottom of the page for a moment, and then he began to chuckle. Not an evil chuckle, not a cruel chuckle, but the kind of chuckle that comes when you see something very familiar somewhere unexpected. The man pocketed the journal and took his leave, still quietly chuckling to himself.


End file.
